Ragarni Ironhammer
WARNING: This article may contain Explicit Content, but don't hold your breath. The only warning I can put on is: Moderate Language and Violence "I'll literally fry yer ass." - ''Ragarni Basic Info Standing at 4'11, this dwarf seems very impressive. His whole face, despite his skin, is grey. His eyes, beard, moustache, and hair. He is almost always clad in his Mail Uniform, protecting Stormwind from all its threats. His name is Ragarni 'Thunderloins' Ironhammer, or just simply, Rag. Sheathed on his belt would be his trusty Stormhammer, and on his back, sheathed, would be his basic steel shield. On his belt would be numerous pouches, and a few small artifacts chained, which are clues to what he is: An shaman. Born and raised in Thelsamar, Ragarni was just an average Ironhammer dwarf, who eventually grew up to be part of the King's army. He met his beloved wife, Yuni, ten years before the Dark Portal opened and the First War began. She was also in the King's army, so the two were always together. He was in the Second and Third wars, however, his wife Yuni died in the Third War, being in Andorhal when it was invaded. She was brutally slaughtered, but never raised into undeath. Her grave is facing Lake Carrow, engraved on it is, ''We loved her, but the Titans loved her more. ''Ragarni reached the rank Seargent by the time the Third War was over, but engulfed with grief and rage, he quit, and moved to Stormwind to enjoy a nice retirement. However, one time when he was visiting Ironforge to go to an Ironhammer Gathering, a pair of Wildhammer dwarves caught his eye. They were both shamans, visiting Ironforge. Ragarni spoke to them, and became interested in the Elements. He trained at Aerie Peak, learning the ways of the Shaman. He finally reached Farseer status, and was freed of his training. He returned to Stormwind, where he delved into more of the Element's origins and pasts. Ragarni was becoming a powerful shaman, but he rarely used his power. After getting fed up with seeing criminals running rampant on Stormwind's streets, he enlisted in the Stormwind Militia, where he is in to this day. The Dawn of the Ironhammers The Name, Given. Ever since the Dwarves descended from the Earthen, there have been the Ironhammers. They were the first dwarves to figure out how to smelt minerals, and they eventually crafted the first dwarven weapon ever: The Iron Hammer. They got their clan name from this action, and began to grow. Before the War of the Three Hammers, they were the largest clan, rivaling the Bronzebeards, Wildhammers, and Dark Irons. It was during the War of the Three Hammers though, that they would collapse. War of the Three Hammers When the King of Ironforge had died, and he had noone to take his place, the clans of Ironforge fought for control of the Throne, and all of the dwarven lands. The Ironhammers were the biggest clan by the time the War started, and were conquering fast. However, an advisor to the Thane of the Ironhammers was a traitor, and fed information to the Dark Irons of the Ironhammer's plotting. This would eventually lead to the downfall of the Ironhammers, as one day, when the Thane and his advisers, and all of his family were at their stone hall, celebrating, the Dark Irons ambushed them. They struck quick, and ruthlessly. None of the Ironhammers attending the celebration survived. The Thane of the Ironhammers had always carried the first Iron Hammer ever made, named Ironfoe. This had been stolen, and given to Thaurissian. The Ironhammers then panicked, for their Thane had been killed, along with his sons, daughters, and wives. The Ironhammers were taking heavy blows from the Dark Irons, and were almost wiped out. It was only thanks to the Bronzebears that any of them survived. The Bronzebeards eventually drove out the Wildhammers and Dark Irons, saving the Ironhammers. For their assistance of helping the Bronzebeards, the Ironhammers were granted to stay in Ironforge with the Bronzbeards. When the Dark Irons began attacking Ironforge and the Wildhammers, the Ironhammers had grown, and struck back with the fury of the mountain. The war was eventually over, with the Wildhammers, Bronzebeards, and Ironhammers driving back the Dark Irons into Blackrock. Finally, peace within the clans. For now. The Beginning of Ragarni's Story﻿ "Ooo... Braf, look a' 'im. 'e's so coote." "Aye, he looks tough. That'll be good." "Ah, ye. It's always a question o' 'ow tough they look, or if they seem 'ealthy. Typical male dwarf." "Hmmph." 'Childhood' "Rag, Rag!" "Aye, Frola?" "Look at what I can do!" I watch as my sister runs across the dock, and into the Loch, causing a huge splash, which sprays on my already soaked clothes. I gripped my fishing pole, and whip my head around, like a dog, getting the water out of my hair. I smirk. Frola's head then appears out of the water. "Did ye see tha'?" "Aye Frola, I did. Big splash, if I say so meself." She grins at me, then dives back into the water. I sigh, looking at the Loch. How beautiful. Thelsamar was abuzz with activity as people went along their daily routines: Wake up, grab a fishing pole, and fish. Dad was sitting in a chair on the porch of our house, watching me and Frola. Mum was inside, cooking and cleaning or whatever it is moms do. I feel a tug on my fishing pole, and my heart jumps. Was this to be my first catch? It tugs more, and I start to pull, eager to catch that fish. It was tough, it was. It must have weight about 60 pounds. Had to.. Pull more... And with a sudden jump, I was kicked back onto the floor of the dock, still gripping my heavy pole. I hear a gasp behind me, and feet as my dad peers over me, then at my catch. I slowly rise my head, and what I caught surprised me. It must have been the heaviest Sunscale Salmon ever. There it was, glowing brilliantly with the sun beating on it. It's shells reflected the light, casting brilliant lights. My first catch, and it had been a record. Training Session "The thing about shields, is tha' they offer protection, 'owever, a mace smash te it can cause ye to drop it, cause heavy 'arm te yer arm, which leaves ye vulnrable te attack. Ye understand?" I nod, gripping my wooden sword. My dad stood infront of me, also with a wooden sword, although he was leaning on it. He continues, "No' many dwarves 'ave used swords, since they're no' -tha'- effective, 'owever, they don' make wooden axes or wooden 'ammers, so these will 'ave te do. I wan' te try an' see if ye land a cu' on me. No stabbing, aight? And no blows to tha face. I nod, then size him up. He was expecting a slash at the chest, and his sword was expertly placed to parry that. I would just have to surprise him. I run at him, and raise my sword. He readies himself, and at the last second, raises his sword to parry the downward slash, which never comes. Instead, I already slashed down, missing the parry intentionally, and threw an upward diagonal slash at his legs. It's succesful, and a nasty scratch shows in his clothing, blood starting to appear. He pushed me away with his free hand, and I stumble back. He looks over his wound, and chuckles. "No' bad, Rag. Go inside and ge' yer mum, and 'ave 'er bring some bandages. We'll continue tommorow." I grin, then run inside. 'Coming of Age' "Rag, wake up! Today's tha big day!" My eyes open automatically, excitement tingling in me. I shoot out of my bed, barely grabbing my shirt and shorts, and putting them on as I run towards the dining room. Inside was fully prepared breakfast. Ham, eggs, milk, and some bacon. I grin. My favorite. I sit down, my dad eating slowly. Frola is also sitting, but she's staring at me, wide-eyed. Mum appears from the kitchen, taking off her apron. "Me big boy's finally go'en te be o' age! Oooh, I'm gonna miss ye when ye move out today." "Thanks, mum." Today was it. My Fortieth birthday, where I would become of age, get my iron hammer from Dad, forged from the local blacksmith, and load my bags on my ram, where I'd then head to Ironforge to buy an apartment, enlist in the King's army, and live. She sits down, and we begin one of the best breakfasts I've ever had in my life. 'King's Army﻿''' Enrollment﻿ "Alrighty... Full name?" "Ragarni Ironhammer, son of Braf and Seria Ironhammer." "Ironhammer, eh? Good. Birthplace?" "Thelsamar, Loch Modan." "Nice place, grea' place te go fishin. Alrigh'. Age?" "Forty." "Yeesh, righ' into tha army eh? Reason fer joinin' tha King's army?" "To serve the King and bring honor to myself and my family." "Alrighty, good cause. Yer now accepted inte the ranks of the King's Army as a private. Grab a tabard soon, and training fer ye starts on Staurday at 6 A.M. Hope te see ye there." "I'll be there, Sir." "Good lad." "There will be no -excessive- drinking on tha job!" "Alrigh', maggo's! Me name be Seargent Barlow, but ye can call me, Seargent Barlow! I'll be yer main instructor and yer Drill Seargent, so pay good attention te what I 'ave te say! I see a lo' o' new faces today, which is good. There is two important rules in this regiment: Number one, there will be no -excessive- drinking on tha job!" Groans started happening. "SHU' UP! NUMBER TWO! No bein' an idio'! A'lo' o' ye jus' broke tha rule, bu' I'll le' i' slip, bu' only this once! Is tha' clear?!" "Aye, Seargent Barlow!" Fifteen voices echoed that. I shifted uneasily, very nervous. What if I screwed up something, and got yelled at? Or worse, beaten? It was my first day, I didn't want to screw things up. And no excessive drinking on the job? What the hell kind of rule is that? "Now, I'll be splittin ye all into pairs, where ye'll be sparring. I'll look you all ova, with tha help o' tha two corporals 'ere. Now.. Grofi, with Brod..." The voices echo, and I grow more nervous. I wasn't the shortest dwarf here, but I wasn't the biggest either. "Ragarni with Bruth..." Bruth? I look down the aisle, and saw one of the meanest looking dwarves ever. Pale, sick looking skin. Very dark hair, dark eyes that stared into your soul, a sneer already on his face, and muscles bulging in his mail armor, that sickish looking axe hanging loosely off his back He was sizing me up. Orange hair, dark skin, grey eyes, iron hammer, shield, not a whole lot of muscle. He walks towards me. "Welp, le's jus' ge' this ova with." He says, but it seemed threatening. He unsheathes his axe off his back, while I take off my hammer and shield. I would have speed on my side, since I was smaller and thinner, and he had a two-hander. However, one blow from that and I'd be in the medical bay for weeks. I readied myself, and barely heard the seargent yell, "BEGIN!" I was only aware of Bruth raising his axe, and in an instant, bringing it down. I barely managed to dodge it, moving to the left quickly. What now? Oh yeah, JUMP! I hear the axe whoosh beneath my feet, Bruth's sneer getting nastier. As he's managing the force of his axe swing, I bring my shield around and -SMASH- it into his chest. I didn't put a lot of force beneath it, however, his axe swing had left him unbalanced, and I watch as he falls to the floor. I put my foot on top of his chest, and yell. "Done!" The distant sounds of fighting stop, and they watch as Barlow walks to me. "Hmm.. No' bad fer the firs' day, Ragarni. Bruth 'ere is our beserker, and 'e's taken down a lo' o' new recruits. Yer officialy tha firs' new recrui' te take 'im down. Mos' recruits panic and get cocky after they miss the downward swing, and get an axe stuck in tha side o' their chests. Good fight, Bruth." "Th-thank ye, sir." I couldn't help stutter. I had taken down the unbeatable on my first day. I take my boot off of Bruth, and help him up. "Good fight, Rag. Either I was off me game today, or ye be pre'y good." He shakes my hand, and I shake it back weakly. This day was getting confusing. Trogg Duty﻿ The dwarf infront of me stopped, and I sighed. The company was beginning to stop as well, and we were looking at the Seargent up in front of the coloumn formation. He was holding a hand, inspecting the dwarven made tunnel that lead to Dun Algaz, our new station, which was suffering from trogg attacks. Bruth sighed as well, next to me. The seargents voice then rang out, "Ready your weapons! I sense something coming up!" Hoooo boy. I unsheathe my hammer and shield, while Bruth unsheathes his axe. The rest of the company begins to draw weapons. "Alright, I want a V formation! Casters in the middle, melee at tha front!" We scrambled to form, and we were soon prepared. We were looking around the beauty of Loch Modan, where the only thing that moved was us. We were peering down the tunnel infront of us. We couldn't see down the ramp, but suddenly, I heard it. It was like small thunder at first... But then, it struck me. A fast moving army headed our way. And then, they were there, appearing from the tunnel like rats. The lead one was pretty big, even for a trogg. He had white skin, unlike the brown skinned ones, and had basilisk at his side. "Me Grimlok, king!" The words rang out. So, this was supposed to be their leader. The seargent's voice rang out, "Ye be filthy vermin enroaching on our lands, begone, ye ugly bastard!" Welp, that was motivation for Grimlok to throw a lightning bolt at the seargent. Suddenly, mass chaos. The formation broke as blood-thirsty dwarves charged into the troggs. I saw the seargent wrestling with Grimlok, while the basilisk was snapping at a circle of dwarves that had surrounded it. I ran forward, and raised my hammer, unsure of what to hit among the huge crowd of dwarves and troggs. Finally, I saw an open, brown, ugly head sticking out. I struck my hammer upon it, and there was a troggish cry. I then swing my hammer to the right side, catching a trogg that was about to bring its bone mace upon me. I got him right in his right side, and he cried out in pain as he flew to the side. I brought my hammer upon his head again to finish him. I heard a cry behind me, but I turned around too late. A trogg was grabbing at my neck, hanging off of me. He was squeezing it, and I tried desperately to pry them. Suddenly, there was a whine of the air, and the grip loosened, and theh ands fell off. I turned around, and saw Bruth looking at the trogg with the huge axe gash in its back, obviously dead. "I owe ye one." He nods at me, and brings his axe around, chopping off another trogg's head off. I then realized we nearly surrounded by troggs. "Back te back!" He puts his back to mine and mine his as we swing our weapons at the incoming troggs. They were coming out of nowhere. I once heard a legend that they just sprouted from the ground. It seemed to be like that. But soon, there was a guttural cry, and the troggs began to ran back in the tunnel. Grimlok was in the middle, carrying his now dead basilisk. There was some nasty gashes on him, and soon us dwarves were alone. "I wan' a casualty call!" "We lost Boris and Dran! But compared te 'ow many troggs we killed, tha's no' a heavy loss." "Righto! Damn, those troggs will pay. I want ye, ye, and ye to go back te Ironforge with the bodies and send them to their families. The res' o' ya. we go' a trogg army te hunt down." Death of a Seargent We all stood there, awaiting the Seargent's orders. Finally, he comes out of the outpost building of Dun Algaz, and he speaks to us, "The troggs be 'oled up in a cave near tha wa'erfall. We're goin in, and killin 'em all." We raised our weapons and shouted. We were Magni's fist of fury. We begin our march towards the marshes, specifically, the Wetlands. We march through the tunnel, our weapons drawn, the location of the map etched into our minds. We finally reach the gloomy, dark land that is known as the Wetlands. We take an immediate left, going off the path. From here the roar of the waterfall was loud. The cave was coming up in sight. There were two troggs sitting outside, but two cracks of a rifle, and they flopped to the ground. All our faces were emotionless, not excited to kill troggs. We had been staying in Dun Algaz for two years, repelling Trogg invasions, and we thought they were coming in somewhere from Loch Modan, but soon we learned they were coming from Wetlands, and we couldn't find their hideout untill we followed one to the cave, where we were just entering. Finally, we had found the trogg cave, where we would find Grimlock, and kill him. There weren't that many troggs in our way, but we soon found out why: They were all in the big cave, and it sounded like Grimlock was giving a prep talk. I went with the seargent to the passage that would bring us to where Grimlock was. We peek around the corner, looking at that ugly backside. Except... Did Grimlock seem smaller? He wasn't carrying a staff... Only a blunt sword. He didn't even look tribal. But, whatever, it was time to kill him. The seargent withdrew his pistol, and came out of hiding, and shouted. "Oi, monkey face! This way!" Grimlock turned towards us, and looked surprised. "We've finnaly got ye, Grimlock." "I not Grimlock! Grimlock dad!" "... Wot?" It all made sense. Grimlock had gone somewhere, and left his son in charge. "Me Frimlock! Grimlock went Ulda!" "Wot's Ulda, ye scum?" But Frimlock knew that he had talked to much, and threw his sword at the seargent. The orders were to storm the troggs from the entrance ramp as soon as Frimlock was dead. However, it's hard to kill a trogg leader with two dwarves, but harder with one dwarf. I could only look at Seargent Barlow as he fell to the ground, the sword potruding from his chest. Blood was seeping out as he coughed. "Kill... 'Im..." I look at Frimlock, smiling smugly at his handiwork. I walk towards him, my hammer gripped tightly. I was pissed at him, for killing the seargent, for being the son of that damned trogg, for that sly smirk that said, "I killed your seargent!" However, being as troggs are stupid, he didn't realize he no loner had a weapon. The troggs down below were wondering what was going on, and soon they would find out. I ready my hammer as he backs up to the edge. It's actually a steep fall, and could kill him, and even if he did survive, we would kill him in the chaos. He looks at me, and says, "This madness!" My eyes opened wide, as I yelled out, "NO!" And swung at his head. It instantly cracked, and Frimlock had just a few seconds to hear my last words to him, "THIS, IS, MODAN!" And I kicked him over the edge, dying before he even hits the floor. There was a massive battle cry, and suddenly, there were dwarves everywhere. The troggs didn't stand a chance, for their dumb brains couldn't calculate why their leader was dead infront of them, and why a dwarf was at the ledge, holding an iron hammer, looking like an evil god, with his eyes red, and his face engulfed with rage. Soon, they were all dead, and there were barely any casulties on our side. I look back at the seargent, who was now lifeless. I lean over his corpse, mad that his life was taken away like that. Soon, a couple dwarves run up, and carry the corpse back. He didn't deserve to die. No one dwarf had deserved to die because of this plague upon the earth. Magni "Ah, there 'e is, tha 'ero tha' killed Frimlock!" I bow as King Magni walks towards me, that grin upon his face. "Ragarni, isn't it?" I nod. "Aye, tha' was some grea' work back there, though a real shame 'bout Barlow. He will be missed." "Aye, he will." "I take it yer an Ironhammer?" Had Magni lived in the War of the Three Hammers? No, he was only 109. War took place about 250 years ago. So he couldn't hold any type of grudge. "Wot ye did is very 'onerable, as ye and tha' regiment wiped out the trogg infestation. We'll 'old a celebration tonigh', where we'll 'onor Barlow and promote ye to the tank o' Corporal." "Thank ye, yer majesty." Oh boy, would Mom and Dad be proud.﻿ ﻿ ﻿ ﻿ ﻿ ﻿ ﻿ ﻿ ﻿ ﻿ ﻿ Category:Dwarf Category:Alliance Shaman